The Vocation
by MissEclipse
Summary: This is my first stab at a M*A*S*H fanfic. My usual haunting ground is the A-Team, so please be kind! Not all of it is canon. It's just my take on things from Margaret Houlihan's PoV, as she struggles to find her place within her new commission. Any comments/constructive criticisms, would be gratefully appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

[**_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. The second chapter is based on real-life accounts of other nurses who served during WW2 and the Korean War._**]

**Chapter 1: Major stand-off!**

[_Timeline: September 1950, South Korea_]

Major Margaret Houlihan stood in Colonel Blake's office, lips pursed in a tight line with a determined expression on her face. The Colonel was helping himself to a very large whiskey, rolling his eyes to the heavens in a resigned manner.

It was late at night and his body ached from ten hours of back-to-back meatball surgery. He still wore his operating gown, which was stained reddish-pink from the afflictions of war. As he sank heavily into his chair, he braced himself for his Head Nurse's imminent verbal onslaught.

"I just won't stand for it any more, Colonel!" she ranted, her eyes flashing angrily at him.

"Let me guess," he sighed wearily. "You want to complain about Pierce and McInytre – again!

"They're a disgrace to the United States Army!" she retorted. "They don't show me or my nurses any respect and they behave like they're in some sort of Marx Brothers' film!"

"Well I sorta like the Marx Brothers," joked Blake, giving the Major a dim-witted grin.

Margaret stamped her foot impatiently on the floor.

"You're not taking this seriously, Colonel!" she snapped back at him. "I want to see some action taken against those two clowns!"

"Radar!" yelled Blake, at exactly the same time as his Company Clerk appeared in the room. Pierce and McIntyre, aka Hawkeye and Trapper, were already in tow behind him. "Get Pierce and …. Oh! …. they're here already … never mind. Dismissed!"

As Radar scurried from the office, Hawkeye sidled up to Margaret.

"Hello Toots!" he said, eyeing her up in a disdainful manner. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"That's Major to you, Captain," she corrected him, irritably.

"Okay," acknowledged Hawkeye. "Hello, Major Toots!"

Margaret tutted in frustration, raising her eyebrows at the Colonel, expectantly.

"What's the beef, Henry?" asked Trapper, rubbing his eyes in confusion, as if he had just been woken up from a very short sleep.

"Well the Major has a minor grievance … I mean we have a major problem … I mean …," stammered Blake, with his usual, bumbling, tongue-twisted panache.

Hawkeye and Trapper grinned mischievously at each other.

"Henry!" sniggered Trapper. "You're getting yourself into a right major quandary."

"Does one major and one minor make it less minor or more major?" asked Hawkeye, innocently.

"You … you … morons!" screamed Margaret, her frustration threatening to reach a new level of hostility. Blake finally got his act together before the incensed nurse threatened to put them all into traction.

"Now look people," he said, trying to assert some authority into his voice. "We're gonna be here for a long time, so can we at least try and get on with each other?"

Margaret glared frostily at the two surgeons.

"All I ask is that you keep your degenerative behaviour to yourselves," she said. "And keep your hands off my nurses!"

"That's a big ask, Margaret!" chided Hawkeye, shaking his head in a reproachful fashion.

"Yeah!" agreed Trapper. "Can we help it if our animal magnetism drives the girls mad!"

Blake spluttered into his whiskey, a wide grin splitting his face.

"Oh, you're all as bad as each other!" huffed the Major. "Well, we'll see who has the last laugh when I take this to high command!"

She turned round and marched resolutely out of the room. She almost fell over Radar, who was half bending down, listening outside the door.

"Get out of my way, you chump!" she exclaimed, as she pushed passed him.

"Sorry, Sir … I mean, Ma'am!" replied Radar in alarm, immediately saluting his superior officer. But the Major had already disappeared into the darkness outside.


	2. Chapter 2: The Army Angel

**Chapter 2: The Army Angel**

Margaret made her way back to her tent, muttering furiously under her breath. She flung open her door and slammed it shut behind her. The whole structure of the tent shook violently under the force. She paced up and down for a few seconds and then sat down on the bed.

Her hand delved under the pillow, bringing out a small, silver hip flask, half-filled with brandy. She took a couple of quick swigs. The taste of the smooth, velvet liquid, helped to calm her black mood.

She felt alone and isolated. Nobody really understood her here and if she was being honest, she didn't understand them either. They all thought she was just that rigid, by-the-book head nurse, who liked to shout a lot and spoil everyone's fun.

The truth was, she was a 100% army brat, with pure khaki blood flowing threw her veins. Although she admired the skill of the MASH surgeons, the lack of military command around the unit frustrated her immensely. Her whole life had revolved round discipline and self-control. She thought with her head first, very rarely letting her emotions rule her heart.

All she wanted was a bit of respect. Was that too much to ask for? God knows, it had been no easy feat to achieve the rank of Major at such an early age - especially in a predominately male-chauvinist army. Many might argue that she was only promoted because her father was the retired and distinguished Colonel, Alvin "Howitzer" Houlihan. Others thought it was because of her connections with various male officers, whom she appeared quite _friendly_ with.

But she knew she had earned her oak leaves. After she had graduated from Nursing School in 1942, she had joined the army straightaway, eager to follow in her father's footsteps. He had been her role model and inspiration whilst she was growing up and she glowed with a sense of pride when she remembered how proud he had been of his little girl's achievements.

Besides, what made the men think they had a monopoly on war? She was no lily-livered damsel in distress! She had served in WW2 as a nurse throughout Europe, with the rank of Second Lieutenant. She had administered medical care to the troops dangerously near to the front lines. She had cowered in bunkers and roadside gullies, whilst the war exploded around her. She had operated in tents and makeshift hospitals under horrendous circumstances.

She had not asked for any special privileges, nor did she, or the other nurses, receive any. She dressed and lived exactly like the GIs, in the same appalling conditions. She queued up in the chowline with everyone else, and endured the same hardships. And throughout the entire ordeal, she had remained professional and dedicated to her vocation.

And yes, she had seen her fair share of heartache. She wasn't the hard-nosed, unfeeling monster they all thought she was. Having served in evacuation hospitals, she had witnessed the damage that the war had caused first-hand. She had seen families torn apart by their grief and suffering from losing loved ones.

Jeez, there had been times when her resolve had threatened to break. During her deployment in Austria, she had treated victims rescued from the concentration camps. Their inhumane treatment had filled her with revulsion as she tended to their malnourished, decaying bodies. On her brief return to America, she was already questioning whether she could make it in such a harsh, callous environment.

She felt hot, salty tears run down her cheeks as she remembered the horrors from the nuclear blast that had finally ended WW2. She had been transferred to Japan, where she was soon involved in treating illnesses and wounds that she had never seen before. If it hadn't been for the trust and appreciation she saw on the faces of the helpless victims around her, she would have thrown the towel in there and then. Margaret took another couple of swigs from the flask, as memories of the battlefield – past and present - invaded her fragile mind.

She had arrived in Korea a couple of weeks before she took up her commission as Head Nurse at the 4077th M*A*S*H. In the frenzied aftermath of the initial North Korean invasion in Seoul, her primary job had been to assist and supervise the evacuation of the sick, infirm and other bewildered refugees to a place of safety.

Again, she was faced with a picture of death and destruction. Homeless families had fled to the fields and other derelict areas of their war-torn city. Young children were found at the side of the road, huddled next to their dead parents' bodies. Other orphaned children were found trying to keep warm next to small fires in railroad yards.

Despite her anguish, she had shut out all the mental torture that plagued her dreams. She had to, otherwise she would have been no help to anyone. Nearly all the refugees needed help in some kind of form. Some of the children were suffering from pneumonia, chickenpox and other illnesses. A couple of the women were pregnant. A handful of the elderly population were senile or suffering from arthritis. And somehow, despite all this disorder, she had successfully been involved in their safe evacuation to the big 12-berth Norwegian ship that would set sail for Japan.

These were overwhelming challenges for the Major to overcome. But she drew strength from her weaknesses and was motivated by a great sense of patriotism and a desire that she wasn't going to let these people down. She was touched by their passion and assurances that the South would reign victorious.

She smiled, somewhat sadly, as the cry of a crooked old woman in a dirty, shabby dress, pierced through the devastating images of her mind.

"_We will win, we will win_" she had chanted over and over again. Others were very soon joining in with her. It was at that point that Margaret knew she was going to make sure she was the best God-damn nurse in the whole of Korea. After all, she was Head Nurse, which meant she had a responsibility to her unit and to the other young charges in her command.

She brushed away her tears and it wasn't long before she had regained her composure and determination. She may not have won her own personal battle this time, but she would eventually win the war!

Her previous attempts to get her old acquaintance, General Hammond, on her side had failed. But Margaret knew other influential Generals. If those klutz thought she was going to let them walk all over her, then they'd better think again. Nobody messed with Major Margaret Houlihan and lived to tell the tale!

[**_Thank-you for reading. You would truly make my day if you could take the time to ping a review my way!_**]


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